Chapter 26

 

 

Jamie picked up a block of firewood and placed it on the chopping block. He stepped back, swung his axe, and split the log in half. He rested his axe on the ground while he picked up one of the broken pieces, placed it on the block, and split it.

The sun shone bright in the castle kitchen yard, but a cool breeze dried the sweat on his brow. He worked steadily all morning. The castle didn’t feel the same without a lot of people and animals around. He kept expecting to see one of his brothers come around the corner, or one of his friends from the village come to fetch him.

Nobody came. No one spoke. No hens cackled. He never heard his mother calling his brothers or the servants. He never heard the horses stamp in the stable. Nothing moved but himself.

The axe sent a satisfying thunk through his limbs. He enjoyed pushing himself and working to keep the castle going. After those first few days when he couldn’t move from the pain racking his whole body, he started to feel better.

His dragon self itched to break out, but he pushed those urges away. He hesitated to shift now. He didn’t want to think about shifting. The memory of the pain made him seek out ways to avoid shifting. He would do anything to stop it happening again.

He could almost look forward to spending the rest of his life as a man, but he couldn’t look forward to spending the rest of his life in this castle. He wanted to go home to Urlu. He wanted to take Grace back to his family, and that meant flying.

He put it off, one day after another, but he couldn’t put it off forever. Even now, Grace encouraged him to shift, just to try out his wing to see if it felt better. He always shrugged it off and said he’d wait just a little longer.

He chopped another log and turned around to pick up another one when he came face to face with a solitary figure. Jock stood before him with that perpetual frown. Jamie tossed his hair out of his eyes. “Mornin’, Uncle.”

Jock nodded. “Lad.”

Jamie set the log on its end and brought his axe down in a clean stroke. The log split apart to reveal its fresh insides. “Ha’e ye come fer tea? There’s fresh cream in the kitchen.”

“No, I han’t come fer tea.”

Jamie didn’t look at him. He already knew Jock didn’t come for tea. He put another log in its place. “We dinnae ha’e any eggs, if that’s what ye’re come fer, but I suppose ye ken that, as Grace gets most o’ her food from Ganny these days.”

He set his axe aside and gathered up the split wood. He carried it into the kitchen and dropped it into the wood box by the fireplace. He returned to find Jock in the same place.

Jamie refused to say any more. If Jock wanted to stand there in silence and watch him split firewood all day, so be it. He wouldn’t get any argument from Jamie, but Jamie would be blamed if he made this any easier on the old man. Jock came all this way to get something off his chest.

Jamie went back to splitting wood. Vitality infused his muscles. He felt even better with Jock watching than he did alone. Jamie reveled in Jock’s discomfort. Hang the old man, if he couldn’t come right out and say whatever it was he wanted to say.

At last, Jock blurted out, “Ye’ll no stay ’ere, lad. Ye cinnae.”

Jamie kept working. “Ye can see yerself it’s no haunted as ye said it was. That witch has put it right, the same way she put the village right. I see ye and the rest o’ ’em livin’ there wi’ no bother, so ye ha’e naught tae say aboot me stayin’ ’ere.”

“I’m no talkin’ aboot the castle,” Jock boomed. “I’m talkin’ aboot ye.”

Jamie stopped what he was doing and planted his axe head on the ground at his feet. “What aboot me? I suppose I ha’e as much right tae live on me father’s land as any mon.”

“Ye ha’e the right,” Jock replied, “but ye’ll no stay ’ere. Ye dinnae belaing ’ere—not anymore.”

Jamie’s head shot up. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, he saw his uncle standing in front of him. “What do ye mean? Speak plain.”

Jock took a step toward him. “Do ye think I dinnae ken? Do ye think I didnae see? What are ye, lad? Ye’re one o’ ’em the legends speak on. Yer Clan has returned tae its own country, and ye’ll no stay ’ere fer laing, I’ll wager.”

Jamie stared at him. “Is that it, then? Ye kenned all alaing aboot me and me Clan?”

He put extra emphasis on the last word. So that was it. Jamie belonged to a different Clan. He never really belonged to the Camerons—none of them did. They belonged to Urlu all along, and only a trick of fate kept them locked in this human world.

Now he would leave. He sensed it himself when he came back to the village after Alexis got rid of the giants. Jamie detected that subtle repulsion between himself and this human habitation. He wouldn’t stay. His own kind called him back.

How ironic that Jock of all people should realize. All this time, Jamie did his utmost to stop the villagers finding out he was Urlu, when Jock knew all along. “How did ye ken?”

“Yer great-grandfather….” Jock hesitated to get the words out.

“Tell me, Uncle,” Jamie urged. “Tell me all. How laing ha’e ye kenned aboot us?”

“I’m yer Uncle,” Jock replied. “That’s what I’m tryin’ tae tell ye. I’m yer uncle on yer mother’s side. It’s yer father as belainged tae some other Clan. Yer great-grandfather Andrew appeared in this village when he was just a wee bairn. The Camerons took him in, and we inquired all up and down the land fer tae find out tae whom he belainged. The folk questioned far and wide, and e’en among the neighboring Clans. They couldnae find the wee lad’s family, nor any woman who may ha’e gi’en birth tae him. They ne’er found out, so he stayed ’ere, and the village raised him as their own. He was ne’er a Cameron. That’s certain.”

Jamie stared at him in wonder. “Then how…?” He cast his eyes around the castle.

“This? He earned it workin’ fer the Laird as owned it afore him. Yer great grandfather had naught but the clothes off his back, but he was a right willing lad wi’ a way around people. He could charm the pennies out o’ an auld woman’s purse, and he made friends wi’ the Laird. He did jobs fer the auld man, and after a time, he became friends wi’ him. They used tae hunt taegether, and in the e’ens, Andrew’d sit by the Laird’s fire and tell him stories. He made ’em up out o’ his head tae entertain the man. When the Laird died, he left the whole estate tae the lad. That’s how he came tae live up ’ere and the rest o’ us mun’ stop in the village.”

Jamie studied the man with new eyes. So that’s how it happened. Andrew was the ancestor who turned his back on the Phoenix Throne, and he wound up here. Of all the villagers, Jock found out. He knew all along Jamie’s family never belonged here.

“I allus kenned yer father had summat different aboot him, he and his father and his brothers afore him,” Jock went on. “He had that power under his skin, and all ye lads had the same thing. Not a one o’ ye kenned what ye were—all but Fergus. He kenned.”

Jamie looked away. “Well, now ye ken all. Ye ha’e seen me on the wing, so what’ll ye do aboot it? I suppose ye’ll drive me out o’ the land now.”

“I’ll no do naught tae ye,” Jock replied. “Ye’ll go yer own way, back tae yer brothers and yer own people. I ha’e come tae ask ye ainly one thing.”

“Name it.”

“Leave Grace behind. She doesnae belaing tae ye. She belaings tae the human world. She cinnae belaing tae yer kind. Ye’d do her a grave disservice takin’ her away.”

Jamie snorted. “Is that it? Did she ask ye tae come and tell me that?”

“O’ course not. She would ne’er ask me any such thing.”

“That’s right,” Jamie returned. “She would ne’er ask ye fer she wants tae go. She has begged me e’ery day tae take her there. Did ye ken that, or are ye makin’ this up out o’ yer head?”

“Ye mun’ acknowledge a human woman cinnae belaing tae a race o’ dragons.”

“I mun’ acknowledge no such thing,” Jamie snapped. “Ye dinnae ken naught aboot it. She’s her own woman. She can decide who she belaings tae and who she doesnae. It’s no me decision in the end. Why do ye no talk tae her aboot it? Gang ye down tae the village and tell her. Tell her she doesnae belaing tae a race o’ dragons, and she mun’ stop ’ere wi’ ye and yers instead o’ me. Get alaing and see what she says.”

He turned his back on his uncle. He couldn’t show how angry he was, but he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to stoop to convincing Jock. Jock couldn’t possibly know about the other four women who married his brothers.

Jock wasn’t there to fight Gakhra for the Phoenix Throne. Jock wasn’t there to watch Elle battle those ghouls, or Hazel destroy them with her spell. Jock didn’t see Sadie fighting the vampires.

Jock couldn’t possibly understand about Grace. He couldn’t know the hidden power these women possessed, or how they belonged to the Urlus from the reaches of time. Jamie didn’t have to waste his life’s breath explaining it to him. He had better ways to spend a sunny morning.

Jock lowered his voice in the way that told Jamie the old man was struggling to keep control of his emotions. “Ganny and I’ll gi’e her a home. She loves this village as much as we do. She’ll be happy ’ere. She allus has been. What can ye offer her out there? A life o’ battle and danger? Dinnae do that to a fine lass like her. Leave her ’ere, and we’ll look after her.”

Jamie turned around to face him. “I told ye. It’s naught tae do wi’ me. If she tells me she wishes tae stay in the village wi’ ye, ye’ll get no argument from me. I ha’e begged her a dozen times tae stay in a safe place. Ye mun’ convince her, no me.”

Jock frowned. “Ye’ll live tae regret this, lad. Do ye wish tae see her die afore yer eyes on some battlefield?”

“Do ye think I told her tae come back ’ere wi’ those strange weapons o’ hers?” Jamie asked. “I sent her back tae keep her out o’ harm’s way. She came back on her own, wi’ no help from me. If I sent her away, she’d spend all her strength tae find a way tae follow me. I ha’e seen it a dozen times, and I’ll no waste any more time tryin’ tae stop her. She wants this. Do ye understand that? She wants tae go. She wants tae go a lot more than I do.”

He chuckled to himself and went back to splitting wood. Jock glared at him. “I’m warnin’ ye fer the last time, lad. Dinnae do this tae her.”

“I’m doin’ naught tae her,” Jamie replied. “Ye think I’m keepin’ her ’ere like some kind o’ bird in a cage. She’s free. She’s freer and stronger and more determined than I am. Ye ken it yerself, Uncle, or ye’d no be talkin’ tae me aboot this. Ye’re afraid o’ her. Ye’re afraid tae talk tae her yerself and tell her what ye just told me. Ye dinnae want tae hear the words from her own mouth. Ye want tae throw the choice on me when it’s no choice o’ mine. If ye cinnae convince her, I dinnae want tae hear any more aboot it.”

He turned his back on Jock. The yard fell silent except for the thumping of the axe. Jamie worked for what seemed like hours. When he split another pile of wood and gathered it in his arms to carry it inside, he found the yard empty.

That fool Jock! He didn’t understand women like Grace. He couldn’t. He’d never met one before. He couldn’t know the way Jamie did how determined they could be.

Grace knew better. She knew better than anyone she belonged in Urlu. She only stayed until Jamie would be well enough to fly. Then she would go with a glad heart.

The conversation only solidified the plain fact in Jamie’s mind. He never belonged here, and he didn’t belong here now. Even Jock knew that. Jock didn’t want these dragon people hanging around, even if one of them was his own nephew.

Jamie took one last look around the yard. Now he hated what spoke to him out of the depths of his heart only a little while ago. How narrow and crude and ugly the whole place looked compared to Angus’s magnificent castle.

The sun shone on that bright land. Dragons played in the clouds over the turrets. The Phoenix Throne beckoned Jamie back to the country populated by people who knew and understood and loved him.

He set his axe in the shed where it belonged. He carried the last wood into the castle. He put an armload in the bedroom he shared with Grace. He determined to give her the ultimate choice. If she really wanted to stay here, he would give her a home she deserved.